


Salmon Tartar

by misssara11



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 11:19:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3527375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misssara11/pseuds/misssara11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lazy afternoon in the Foundry filled with routine computer maintenance, salmon ladder shenanigans, revenge, designer clothing care, sibling therapy, and quippy John Diggle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salmon Tartar

**Author's Note:**

> Just some fluffy sexy times that have been bouncing around my head for a while. Specifically one clear picture in my head of Oliver (the whole thing is written around that). Special thanks to [ivydoor](http://ivydoor.tumblr.com/) who put up with my pestering. She said I can blame any mistakes in this on her.

Felicity looked up from her computers to admire Oliver making his way up and down the salmon ladder. It was just the two of them in the Foundry, spending the weekend afternoon there instead of out in the world. She played with her necklace as she sighed dreamily at her most excellent view.

What kind of girlfriend would she be if she didn’t ogle, appreciate, and even objectify her boyfriend’s wares he was proudly putting on display. They had finally reached the point where she no longer pretended she wasn't looking and Oliver no longer pretended he wasn't showing off for her.

They had ended up there as Felicity had been putting off the type of maintenance on the computers that were necessary but not so urgent as to interrupt catching bad guys. Oliver, wanting an excuse to be with his girlfriend, tagged along and decided to work out. 

Felicity glance at her bank of monitors to check the progress. Seeing nothing that needed her attention yet, she went back to her preferred view. Oliver had stopped halfway up the ladder and was doing a series of stretches and curls. He slowly unfurled, letting his spine straighten one vertebrae at a time. When he finished with his back, he let his arms straighten and let himself hang. She bit her lip as her eyes traced a drop of sweat drip from his hairline, down his neck, curl around his pectoral, and down his abs before disappearing into his waistband. She made plans to retrace that route later that night. When she looked back to his face, he was smirking and winked at her.

_He’s doing it on purpose,_ she thought to herself. Well, she wasn't going to let him get away with that. But revenge was best served cold.

* * *

Oliver watched as Felicity took another look at her computers before turning in her chair and heading over to the collection of takeout boxes they had picked up on their way over to the Foundry. While he couldn't be sure she huffed when she sat back down; he could tell she was pointedly ignoring him. He laughed to himself and moved into chin-ups.

He did a few more runs up and down before he stopped again in the middle and let himself drop. He closed his eyes as his spine popped as it lengthened. He felt the sweat drip from his face to his torso but chose to ignore it. After a while he realized it wasn't sweat he was feeling.

His eyes snapped open when something hit his navel. He cut over to Felicity as she fist pumped in victory. He looked at his feet to see a collection of scraps of food. He quickly inventoried some noodles, bits of shrimp, clumps of rice, and a dab of wasabi that had just slid cleanly off his stomach.

When he looked back at his girlfriend, she resembled a deer in headlights as she realized she had been caught and her eyes widened. With a feral look in his eyes, Oliver dropped to the ground into a crouch. As he stood, so did she from her chair.

“Now, Oliver, we can discuss this like the rational adults we are. EEP!” She took off as he took his first step toward her. He chased her around, not making any serious attempt to immediately catch her. Eventually he grabbed her at the waist from behind as she squealed and made a half-hearted attempt to get free. He set her down in front of one of the tables.

He slid his hands to her hips and gently encouraged her to turn. Once she was facing him, she put her hands on his forearms. She looked up at him and slid her hands up, lightly squeezing his biceps along the way, finally linking her fingers around his neck. He leaned in and right before he touched her lips, she said, “You caught me.”

He was close enough to feel her smile against his. “Mmm. That I did.” She finished the distance for the kiss. As he lifted her up onto the table, he heard one of her shoes fall to the floor. He leaned in closer but was stopped by her hands shoving against his chest. He pulled back and cocked his head in confusion.

“This,” she gestured to her chest, “is a new and expensive blouse. I don't want your man sweat all over it.”

“My man sweat?”

“Yes. You’re all manly. And sweaty. And while it’s very appealing, it does nothing for organic silk.” She crossed her arms, looking very determined.

“You don’t seem to mind my man sweat in other circumstances.” He smiled softly at her. Moments like these were one of the many reasons why he loved her so much.

“I’m not wearing hand-painted, designer tops then. I'm not usually wearing any tops then.”

“We'll just have to remedy that then.” He unfolded her arms and held her hands and leaned in for another kiss. As he pulled back, he reached for the top button.

She sighed as he kissed her neck, then poked him in the chest.

“Yes, Felicity?”

“Hand-painted organic silk. No popping of buttons. No urgent tearing in the heat of passion. Handle with care.”

“Understood.” He took his time, using his mouth to reacquaint himself with each bit of skin he revealed. She started squirming halfway down.

“There can be some urgency!” He tsked at her. “Did you just tsk me? Seriously Oliver, I know your playboy days are far, far behind you but your seduction techniques could use some work.” He smiled against her before lightly licking her stomach. “Ah! Okay. Never mind. As you were.” She threaded her fingers through his hair.

Instead of removing the blouse of the waistband of her skirt, he pulled it open, exposing her torso to him. He palmed her breasts through her bra, kissing the tops of them. He looked up at her. “Is this acceptable?”

“Very. Oh, you mean the blouse. Yeah. You're good.” She pulled him back in. The kissed and touches started to turn more heated. 

His hands moved to her knees, then drifted up and under her skirt. “Lift up for me.”

She anchored herself on his shoulders and lifted her hips. He quickly slid her underwear down her legs, letting her other shoe drop when stepped back long enough to remove them completely. As he moved back between her legs, he pulled her hips to the edge of the table and in alignment with his.

Felicity worked her way down Oliver’s neck, stopping here and there to give a spot some extra attention. She dragged her fingers lightly along his side; soft enough to tease but hard enough to not tickle. His abundance of scar tissue dulled that response but the areas between were almost extra sensitive to the touch. He hummed into her mouth, encouraging her to continue. Her legs wrapped around him and he pulled them up higher, causing both of them to gasp.

Her hands moved to undo his belt and the button of his pants. He moaned as she cupped him. In the back of his mind he clocked her shoe dropping again but the front of his mind was far too occupied with her pulling down his zipper. She reached into his boxer briefs and took him in hand.

“I just don't think it’s a good business model. I mean, you were a military guy, you know all about structure and OH! NO! NOT NECESSARY!”

It hit Oliver like a ton of bricks. Felicity didn't have a third shoe to drop. That wasn't the sound he had heard. He ripped his mouth from hers and turned in time to see Thea and Diggle at the bottom of the stairs. Diggle crossed his arms and shook his head. Thea covered her eyes with her hand and blindly searched for the railing of the stairs.

“There are things that do not need to be seen. My brother is not a sexual being. All those girls I saw coming out of your room growing up were playing board games with you...” Thea continued to rant as she made her way back up the stairs, still covering her eyes. “Hi Felicity.”

“Thea,” he heard weakly behind him. It struck him what a picture this would make to other people. His pants undone, Felicity’s blouse open, Felicity’s lipstick more on his lips than hers, her legs now spread open after falling from his hips, abundantly clear what they had just been up to. Thea stomped the rest of the way up, not pausing in her tirade.

Felicity shoved him forward. He felt her knees brush the back of his legs and she closed them. He could hear clothes shuffling as he imagined her doing up her top. She dropped her head to his shoulder. “Hi, John,” she mumbled more into his skin than to the man named.

Diggle just stared them down. “You know no one is happier for you two than me. But your sister is right. There are some things I just never need to see.” Oliver followed Diggle’s eyes to the floor around them. He found one of Felicity’s shoes on one side and her other shoe draped with her underwear on the other. He looked back up to see Dig close his eyes like he was gathering strength.

When he opened them, what he said was clearly directed at both of them, even though he never looked away from Oliver. “I am going to go upstairs with Thea. When I return in 10 minutes we are going to have a long talk about some sort of warning system. I still don't think Roy’s recovered from the sock incident.”

Felicity whimpered in embarrassment behind him. He reached back and patted her knee. She grabbed his hand and squeezed. She put her chin on his shoulder. “Sorry, Dig.”

“Yeah, sorry. We didn't think anyone else would be here today.”

Diggle shook his head at them. “Just pull yourselves together. I’m going to make sure Thea isn't single-handedly lowering her inventory in an attempt to destroy the memories of what she just saw.” He turned and ascended the stairs.

Oliver turned to Felicity, placing a hand on her cheek. He silently asked her if she was okay. She nodded. He leaned in to kiss her forehead when Diggle stopped on the stairs and turned to them.

“And Oliver, do up your pants, man.”


End file.
